Chasing the moon
What is my life to the world?
What is it to me?
It’s water changing to blood,
Leaking out through my fingers
onto the cruel uncaring world.
What am I doing, but chasing the moon?
Chasing the moon across the sky,
Hoping for something better.
I’m invisible,
Nothing but air.
Needed by the unneeded
Wanted by the unwanted.
What am I doing? Chasing the moon,
Chasing it across the sky.
Who am I?
Am I the rose?
Or am I the thorns?
Am I the dust in the wind?
Or am I the wind itself?
Why am I?
Why do I live?
All I’m doing is chasing the moon.
Chasing it across the sky.
Who is there to care?
Who really cares?
Who am I to wonder?
Who am I to question?
Who am I, but a ghost?
All I’m doing is chasing the moon.
Chasing it across the sky.
Hoping…
Hoping for something better.